All I Ever Wanted
by StrongHermione
Summary: Society places so much emphasis on what is 'right' and 'expected'. Who would have thought that extended to Christmas gifts? Despite their personal wishes, Hermione and Severus are dragged toward the expectations. What if they just did something they wanted instead? One-shot; SS/HG; HP/DM (just partnered, no details); EWE?; AU; Poss OOC; Christmas Fic Exchange


_Disclaimer – Harry Potter is owned by JK Rowling et al. Anything you recognise is the intellectual property of these individuals and corporations. Any other brand or company names recognised in this story are the property of interested parties pertaining to them. I own nothing and no money is being made from the writing of this story. I do hope I am generating goodwill, though._

_Rated M for sexual encounters (no slash). Thanks to Craftsman for her fantastic Beta skills and thanks to Samagnus and LadyStiff for Cheerleading efforts. _

_This story was for The Secret Santa Fic Gift Exchange on The Maple Bookshelf and was written for Worrywart based on her prompt: __A married couples' first Christmas together, trying to find the perfect gift.__ Also at her request is the main pairing of __Severus Snape and Hermione Granger__ with a side pairing of __Harry Potter and Draco Malfoy__, who must help Severus and Hermione respectively in their search._

_It is a little late being posted here, but we had to wait for the 'big reveal' on TMB before posting anywhere else._

_**.**_

**All I Ever Wanted...**

"It appears I have located your photo albums," the smug baritone of Severus Snape rang throughout the draughty attic.

Hermione Snape looked up from the box she was currently searching through, a relieved smile lighting her face. Her husband took a moment to revel in the gratified expression she wore.

The couple were cleaning out the dusty attic in preparation for a massive renovation to their Spinner's End home. They had returned there from Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry, where they were currently employed – Severus as the Defence Against the Dark Arts professor and Hermione as the Arithmancy professor – the day before for the Christmas holidays. They were planning to spend the three weeks in relative solitude, preparing their abode for the conversion of the attic into a master suite, the addition of a conservatory attached to the back of the house, an upgrade of the kitchen and bathroom and a general cosmetic overhaul of the rest of the house, to turn it into their home.

"Excellent," Hermione said. "Can you please put them by the door to take down later?" she asked. Severus drew his wand and levitated the three leather-bound albums to come to rest on top of a small pile of books already waiting to be transferred to their bookshelves. He began to levitate the other cartons labelled '_Hermione_' into a neat stack. Once the albums had been located, there was no need to look through the rest of her boxes; she had done a thorough cleanout of her belongings when she had moved in with him a year ago.

Hermione finished with the box of linens she had been going through. Apart from some antique lace doilies and runners, everything went onto the '_donate_' pile. Severus's mother's taste in tablecloths and napery left something to be desired in Hermione's eyes. She grabbed another box, this one a little larger than the others she had gone through so far. She turned the box to see if it was labelled. Giggles bubbled from her mouth, catching her husband's attention.

"Something amusing, my Love?" he queried. The small smile he sported at his wife's infectious laughter died when she turned the box around to reveal the label: '_Sevvie's Toys'_. "Give me that," he ordered through clenched teeth, dragging the box and its damning label toward him.

"Oh, it's cute; did your Mummy call you 'Sevvie'? Can I call you 'Sevvie'?" Hermione gushed.

"Do _not_ call me that," Severus warned.

"Oh, what will you do to me, _Sevvie_?" Hermione asked cheekily.

"I will take you over my knee and spank you, Wife," he threatened.

Hermione exaggerated a pleasurable shudder. "Later, _Sevvie_," she said with a saucy grin. Severus merely growled in response. The pleasurable thrill that ran through her body at this sound was not exaggerated. She smiled at Severus as he opened the box containing his old toys, but let up on her teasing. While Severus had lightened up considerably since the end of the war and the recovery from his wounds, he still had a limit and she sensed he had reached it.

Hermione began to sort through another box of linen, looking up surreptitiously every now and again as Severus pulled several toys and games from the box, sorting them onto either the 'donate' pile or the 'rubbish' pile. The quietest of noises from deep in Severus's throat caught Hermione's attention. She watched furtively as Severus almost reverently pulled an action figure from the box. Judging by the red robes the toy was attired in, it was an Auror figurine. Severus carefully stroked a finger over the clothes and turned the figure over in his hand. As he did so, the toy practically fell apart. An arm and a leg detached from the body, and the head only stayed in the general anatomical vicinity due to being caught in the hood of the robe.

"Just like the last time I touched it. Don't know why the blasted woman would have kept it," Severus muttered under his breath. "Useless without the full set anyway." Hermione did not miss the slightly gruff tone, accompanied by a throat clearing that Severus was quick to attribute to dust. She did not push the issue, knowing there was no surer way to ensure Severus spent the day brooding and sulking than to bring it up. She noticed he had already continued to pull more toys and puzzles from the box, the Auror figurine consigned to the 'rubbish' pile. With an understanding smile, she pulled yet another box of linen toward her, coughing when a particularly strong whiff of mothballs made it into her windpipe. Severus merely chuckled at his wife's dilemma, and the pair continued on their task.

.

Severus placed a small glass of port on the side table next to Hermione before taking a seat on the sofa next to her. After she had cleaned up from dinner, she had gathered her photo albums and taken them to the sitting room. She did not understand how the three albums had been put in the storage boxes when she moved. It must have been an oversight, but she really had begun to fear that she had lost them. She had been dreading telling her mother about it. Checking the boxes in the attic had been her last hope. She opened the leather cover of the first album, turning the pages slowly and revealing pictures dating back as far as her great grandparents. Her mother had meticulously organised the books, arranging the photographs in chronological order and labelling each one as to the approximate date and subject.

Severus placed his arm around his wife and cuddled her close as she revealed her family history to him. Hermione was a quarter of the way through the third and final album, dominated with childhood pictures of her, when Severus stopped her from turning one of the pages. "How old were you here?" he asked.

Hermione looked at the picture, a formal portrait taken in a proper studio. She smiled as she remembered that particular day. "I was seven," she replied. "Mum and Dad wanted a professional shot taken to send to my grandparents." Hermione's large front teeth were already prominent in her childhood face, her wild hair somewhat tamed for the portrait, but she could almost see it trying to escape the confines of the cute little Victorian-era bonnet she was wearing. '_At least one of the banes of my childhood has been eradicated_,' she thought. The big teeth were long gone; her hair was still that mass of untamed curls though, despite her best efforts. She had learned to live with it.

"Why are you wearing the same dress as the doll?" Severus asked. Indeed, Hermione and her doll were attired identically in Victorian dresses, the only difference being the colours – Hermione's dress was green, the doll's pink. Severus had noticed the doll was the only subject to appear in all three albums, seemingly being inherited by each successive daughter.

"The dress and the doll were handed down through the generations," Hermione explained, unknowingly confirming Severus's observation. "They belonged first to my Great-Great-Great-Grandmother, and eventually they were mine." She had a fond smile on her face.

"I am surprised you do not have them. Have they been lost?" Severus asked quietly.

"Not exactly, the dress was donated to a museum not long after this picture was taken. I was physically dressed in it while I was sitting in that chair; it was so fragile, Mum was afraid to let me move in it. The doll was sold a couple of years later," Hermione explained.

"Sold?" Severus queried. From what he knew of the Grangers, they would never have sold a family heirloom.

"When I was nine, my parents were facing dire financial straits due to a bad investment. They didn't actually tell me of them, but one night I heard them talking and they were discussing the possibility of having to declare bankruptcy. As you know I was quite a precocious and tenacious child," Severus merely raised a sardonic eyebrow, "and I decided that it was up to me to help my parents out. All my life I had been told my doll was worth a lot of money. In my naivety, I thought that if I could get two hundred pounds for it, my parents would be saved. The next day I went to the library and looked through a collectibles book. I discovered my doll was actually worth two thousand pounds. So I went to a dealer and after a lo-ot of convincing, got my two thousand pounds and went home. Actually, now that I think about it, I may have used some accidental magic there," Hermione mused thoughtfully.

"How so?" Severus asked.

"The man was adamant that he would not buy the doll without one of my parents being there, no matter how much I pleaded. I remember standing as tall as I could and saying in my strongest, most grown-up voice, '_You _will_ buy this doll from me, Sir'_. Maybe I managed a Confundus or some sort of compulsion charm, because right after that, he handed over the money." Hermione had a slightly contrite look on her face. Her nine year old self was convinced she was in the right – it was _her_ doll and if she wanted to sell it, she could, but her twenty five year old self knew the dilemma the dealer would have found himself in.

"It is highly likely," Severus agreed. He caressed Hermione's upper arm and she snuggled in tighter to his body.

"Anyway, I took the money home and handed it over. Mum and Dad were _pissed_. Mum couldn't believe I had sold that beautiful doll," she said, as she stroked the picture of the doll softly. "I was told in no uncertain terms that it was not my place to worry about financial difficulties my parents might be facing, but I stood up to them. I told them that being homeless with a valuable doll was pretty stupid, and it would be my worry when we were destitute. They couldn't really argue with me, and that two thousand pounds _did_ get them back on their feet. They were affluent again within a year."

Severus kissed the top of Hermione's head after she finished her tale. He marvelled at the generous nature and precociousness she had displayed at such a tender age. How many nine year-olds would do something like that for their parents? But it was symptomatic of Hermione's caring and gentleness that she had carried into adulthood. That unerring ability of hers to know exactly when to toughen up and out-stubborn even him, before reverting into that tender soul who would soothe him after a nightmare, or tenderly administer to him when he suffered ill effects from his long life of suffering under a brutal task-master in the Dark Lord.

"That was a wonderful thing you did for them, my Love," he said quietly.

"I'd do it again," she said resolutely. "Sentimentality has its place. If it were up to you, everything from that attic would have been donated or thrown away today. But then we wouldn't have these gorgeous Waterford crystal-cut port glasses to drink from," she held her glass up in toast, Severus gently clinked his against hers, "nor would we have that beautiful Royal Doulton tea set I found. And, God forbid, if we ever find ourselves facing financial difficulty one day, I will not hesitate to trade them to get us back on track."

"I think you have enough sentimentality for the two of us," Severus said. "But I have enough to tell you, you are the most wonderful woman in the world, and I am very lucky to have you in my life." Severus gently took first the glass from Hermione's hand, then the album. She watched with heavily lidded eyes as he drew her close and kissed her tenderly. Kisses soon turned to passion which saw the pair headed upstairs for a night of proving their love to one another.

.

"Hello, Snapes," the call rang out from the fireplace in the sitting room.

"Good morning, I'm in here," Hermione called from the kitchen. Harry Potter and Draco Malfoy entered the small room a moment later, both pulling out chairs from the table and making themselves comfortable. Harry snagged two pieces of toast and began liberally spreading jam over them while Draco poured tea for his partner and himself. They swapped a piece of toast for a cup of tea, along with a cute kiss, and began their second breakfast of the morning, all the while ignoring the Lady of the House, who was merely staring at the effrontery of the two men. "Comfortable?" she asked sarcastically.

"Quite," Draco replied.

"You sound more and more like your husband every day, Hermione," Harry commented. He drew his wand in preparation to summon the sugar bowl from the countertop. Hermione yanked the wand from Harry's hand and brandished it at him.

"There will be no foolish wand-waving in this kitchen, Mr Potter," she drawled, imitating the deep timbre of her husband. She switched back to her regular voice, but used her best 'professor' tone to admonish him further, "God gave you two legs, use them, and stop being lazy."

Harry merely laughed before standing up to retrieve the sugar bowl. As he passed his sister in all but blood, he placed a kiss on the top of her head, taking possession of his wand once more. "There's fresh milk in the fridge, Harry" Hermione said. She heard the creak of the stairs heralding Severus's imminent arrival, and stood to place two more pieces of bread in the toaster.

The dark-haired wizard stopped in the doorway and took in the occupants of the kitchen. With a small roll of his eyes at the two men who had taken over his planned, quiet breakfast with his wife, he entered the kitchen and swiped the milk straight from Harry's hand. He smirked at the younger man as he poured a dollop of milk into the bottom of his teacup.

"Glad to see you finally got a decent tea service, Uncle," Draco commented, holding the Royal Doulton teacup aloft. "I don't know how you managed all these years with a common, store-bought one such as you had. Is it an early Christmas present?"

"No, we found it when cleaning out the attic. Besides, a cup is a cup, Draco," Severus remarked. "As long as it holds my tea for me, I am satisfied."

"Hear, hear," Harry agreed. He loved Draco, but the materialistic side of his partner sometimes bewildered and irritated the hell out of him. He had had enough of brand names and '_the best of everything_' growing up with the Dursleys. He did not need it as an adult, but he did his best to tolerate it, occasionally just letting Draco know to keep his feet planted firmly on the earth. Harry now looked at the DADA Professor and frowned. "Severus, I know the frock coat and the twenty million buttons are something of a trademark for you in our world, but in the Muggle world, you may get mistaken for a vicar. Especially where we're going," he commented.

Severus turned and took in Harry's attire – blue jeans, a burgundy coloured button down shirt, black, fleece-lined corduroy jacket and sturdy, black hiking boots. It was very Muggle. Severus began to feel trepidatious. "You told me we were going to Diagon Alley to meet a contact and possibly scour for some Dark Artefacts you thought would be offered for sale," Severus reminded him.

Harry's face took on an exaggerated look of realisation. "Oh, well I was speaking to you through the floo and I had a slight cold yesterday. I said we were going to _Nyackon Abbey_ to meet a contact and scour for dark artefacts," Harry confirmed. He had known the day before if he mentioned they would be attending a Muggle event, Severus would find some excuse not to accompany him. It was much better to spring it upon him when it was too late to back out. Hermione hastily turned toward the toaster to hide her smile. Draco laughed outright at the promising-slow-death expression Severus levelled at Harry. Harry grinned unrepentantly back.

Without losing the thunderous expression, Severus practically snatched the plate of toast from Hermione's hand and stalked from the room. "I washed your black jeans yesterday," Hermione cheekily called after him. "They're hanging in the cupboard and there are freshly ironed shirts there, too."

The three in the kitchen could hear him muttering about "_Thrice damned Dark Wizard destroyers,_" and "_Wives and Godsons that keep bad company,_" as Severus went back upstairs to change. Their light laughter followed him.

When he reached the bedroom, he placed the plate on the dressing table and yanked open the door to the cupboard. Removing the items of clothing, he began to change. Draco's query of whether or not the tea set was a Christmas present came back to him. A knot of nerves formed in his stomach. '_What am I going to buy Hermione for Christmas_?' he thought. Maybe there would be something at the fair. If he was going to be dragged to a damn Muggle Antique Fair, then he would use the opportunity well.

Back in the kitchen, the conversation continued. "Remember to keep an eye out for any Wedgwood, Harry," Draco reminded him.

Harry gave him a fond look. "Yes, I remember, Love, you want the pretty flowery plates and it has to be from before nineteen fifty-seven," he recited.

"_Forty_-seven, Harry," Draco stressed. "Anything after nineteen _forty_-seven is pure leprechaun crap."

"Nineteen _forty_-seven," Harry repeated dutifully.

"You are _so_ gay," Hermione said to the blond man sitting at her table, sipping delicately from her newly-discovered Royal Doulton teacups.

"I will have you know, Granger, that I derive my antique spotting abilities from my _father_," Draco argued. Hermione and Harry looked at each other for a split second before dissolving into hysterical laughter. Draco realised a second later what his words implied. He huffed and removed himself from the kitchen, taking a seat on the sofa in the sitting room. Harry and Hermione called apologies after him, but left him alone to have his sulk. They chatted lightly about the latest letters they had received from their friend Ron Weasley, who was now based in Lithuania, teaching flying and coaching Quidditch at the magical school there. He was unable to make it to England for Christmas this year, having drawn duty to stay at the school over the holiday period.

Hermione was telling Harry how she had not been sure whether to be saddened or overjoyed at the recent drubbing Hogwarts had received at an inter-school Wizard's Chess tournament from the _Lietuvos Magija Instutas_. Ron had taken over the chess club at the school and turned the students into a well-oiled machine of victory. The Hogwarts team, presided over by Charms Professor, Filius Flitwick, had been soundly trounced. She quietly confessed that her true feeling ended up being one of immense elation for their friend. Harry agreed.

Severus merely quirked an eyebrow at his brooding Godson as he passed him again on the way to the kitchen to drop off his now empty plate. He accepted a cup of tea from his wife, preening at the obvious way she was checking him out in his Muggle attire. He deliberately turned his back on her to converse with Harry about some strategy for their outing, clenching his arse cheeks ever so slightly and enjoying the small whimper that escaped Hermione's lips. Severus drained his cup before turning and gathering Hermione in his arms, kissing her passionately while Harry made his way into the sitting room to say his own goodbye to his boyfriend.

Harry straightened as the Snapes appeared in the doorway. Severus had donned a coat and scarf in the interim. Farewells said, the pair of dark-haired wizards disapparated to Nyackon Abbey to meet Harry's contact. Hermione dropped into the armchair closest to where Draco was sitting and leaned over the armrest, trying to make eye contact with the still-huffy blond.

"Are you still in a stwop?" she asked, baby-talking to the twenty-four year old wizard.

"No," he denied prissily.

"Oh, poor Dwaco, Hawwy and Howmione were vewy mean to laugh at him," she teased.

"Yes, they were," he agreed.

"How can Howmione make it up to him?" she asked.

"You may take me shopping," he offered.

"Ooh, brilliant," Hermione said, reverting back to her normal speaking voice and sitting up straight. She clapped her hands in excitement.

Draco eyed her warily. "Are you still taking the piss?" he asked. Hermione was not usually this excited to go shopping; in fact it was why he had suggested the activity.

"No, I need to unearth a treasure for Severus's Christmas present," Hermione told him.

"Of course you do," Draco agreed. "A jewellers and an apothecary will take care of it, then you can help me find Harry some decent clothes and shoes."

Hermione looked at him puzzled. "Why on earth would I need a jewellers and an apothecary? I'm not buying him potions ingredients for Christmas, how boringly predictable!" she stated. "And I don't know what fanciful creature of Luna's embedded itself in your brain, but if you think there is any sort of jewellery my husband would wear willingly that he is not already, then perhaps we should forego shopping in favour of a trip to St Mungo's to have you checked out." Severus wore his wedding ring and a watch. That was all. His Godson should surely know that.

"It is your first Christmas as a married couple," Draco lectured imperiously. "The traditional first gift is of course gold, frankincense and myrrh."

Hermione looked at him bewildered. "He's not the Baby Jesus," she pointed out.

"The Baby who?" Draco asked blankly.

"The Baby Jesus," Hermione repeated. At Draco's continuing baffled look, she rolled her eyes and muttered under her breath, '_Pure-bloods!_' "The Baby Jesus, the son of God, the focal point of half the Muggle world's religious beliefs," Hermione prompted. Draco shook his head; he really had no idea what she was talking about. "Anyway," Hermione continued, "I have a fabulous idea for Severus's Christmas present; I just have no idea where I would go to get it. I have never seen a similar shop in Diagon Alley or Hogsmeade. I figured we could start at the toy shop and go from there," she said excitedly.

"Toy shop," Draco repeated.

"I want to get Severus the complete set of Auror Action Adventures," she explained.

Draco looked at her as though she had lost her mind. "I think you're the one who needs St Mungo's, Granger. Severus is forty-four years old, he'll be forty-five in a few weeks; he is not going to want to play 'Auror Action Adventures' at his age; they are for seven or eight-year-old boys," he told her.

Hermione rolled her eyes. "Of course they're not for him to play with. He had one figurine as a child and we found it yesterday when we were cleaning. It was broken, but it was clearly one of his favourite toys. He tried to fob it off by saying it was useless without the entire set, and I just thought it would be great if I could find that set and complete it for him," she explained.

"They bring out a new set of Auror Action Adventures toys every ten years or so," Draco said. "The old ones are no good after that. They are based around _current_ Auror activities."

"So the old ones are probably collectibles worth a lot of money," Hermione said.

"No, they're junk and worth about two knuts!" Draco retorted.

"What? Don't you have collectibles in the Wizarding world?" she asked.

"Yes, jewellery, antiques, fine wines, old weapons, not _toys_," Draco replied.

Hermione snorted. "That is ridiculous. You are trying to tell me that the men in this world grow up and never seek to revisit their childhood?" she asked sceptically.

"Exactly, why, do they not do that in the Muggle world?" he asked sarcastically.

"They grow up, of course, but there is an entire market built around retro toys and collectible action figures. If I showed up at my Dad's on Christmas morning with a G.I. Joe action figure, still in its original box, I would be proclaimed as the best daughter to ever walk the earth!" she declared.

"Okay, I understood nothing of what you said just then, but Severus is a grown wizard. A _traditional_, grown wizard and as such will expect a _traditional_ gift on Christmas morning from his wife of six months. So, we will buy him some gold from the jewellers, and some frankincense and myrrh from the apothecary, and then we will proceed to my shopping needs," Draco informed her.

"Wow, so original," Hermione said, sarcasm dripping from every word. Unfortunately, a tiny part of her realised Draco was right. Severus _was_ traditional, and he set great store by such things. She remembered being quite shocked while planning their wedding at how traditional he wanted things to be. With a sigh of resignation, she agreed. She stood from her chair, gathering her cloak and bag and floo'd to Diagon Alley ahead of Draco. She had to admit to being disappointed – she had really wanted to buy that collection for her husband.

.

Severus and Harry appeared in a small clearing formed within a copse of trees to the side of the ancient abbey in Wales. Harry was there acting on a tip-off that an unscrupulous wizard was trying to offload several ancient wizarding artefacts at this fair – mostly ones that had been jinxed or cursed – to unsuspecting Muggles. The Auror department had been aware of the crook for several weeks; this was the first time they were aware in advance of where he might be operating.

The pair walked toward the stalls that had been set up in long avenues, proudly displaying their wares. Everything from jewellery, to collectibles, to furniture, to tools and much, much more could be found. Severus appeared quite bored by his surroundings, but in actual fact he was aware of everything around him. He scanned tables and shelves, feeling with his own innate magic for items that had been enchanted. After walking through the fair for an hour, all they had come across so far was a set of hair combs with a never-tangle charm on them. Hardly incriminating, and certainly placed many decades ago, but they dutifully purchased them, telling the bemused stall-owner they were for Severus's wife, and Harry secreted them away to return to the Ministry later.

They wandered through the fair for quite a while, avidly scanning their surroundings. Severus grew more and more agitated as the morning progressed and the fair became more crowded. Severus much preferred the staid respectability of Diagon Alley and Hogsmeade to this gathering of mostly elderly Muggles, a few of whom were quite pushy and rude. Harry had to intervene at one point when Severus was examining a ceremonial dagger, which was ripped from his hand by an over-zealous Muggle, who began shouting that it was the exact piece he needed to complete his collection of Tudor weapons and a '_long-haired hippie'_ such as Severus could not possibly understand the historical relevance of such an important part of British History.

Harry obliviated the Muggle of the ensuing lecture regarding that particular dagger and the part it played in the gift giving that took place upon the occasion of The Field of the Cloth of Gold. The detailed story included the original owner of said dagger – one Lord Brittanicus Malfoy, a member of the court of King Henry VIII, who gifted the dagger to His Majesty as an impressive dining implement for the duration of the event. It was thought to have been lost during the period of Puritanism, when the Parliament purged the kingdom of many of the Crown's treasures. Severus had recognised it on sight, and desired to purchase it in order to return it to its original owners.

"You know very well you can't tell a Muggle that it is charmed to ensure a perfect cut every time, and that you would be '_happy to demonstrate upon the lump of dough you call a scone_', Severus," Harry said rolling his eyes. The Muggle in question was wandering away, suddenly taken with the idea of purchasing a lady's bonnet, preferably pink and lacy. Harry had not been impressed with the way the man had snatched an obviously dangerous weapon from Severus's hand. The man was lucky Severus did not go for his wand. They purchased the dagger from the clueless stall operator, and continued in their task.

The meeting with Harry's contact proved futile. The squib had been sure he had seen the suspected wizard at several antique fairs, but was unable to locate the culprit they sought today. Severus performed a surface skim of the man's memories using a surreptitious _Legilimens_, but was unable to discover anything pertinent to Harry's investigation. They were about to leave when a sign proclaiming '_Wedgwood_' caught Harry's eye. He made a beeline for it. He was in such a hurry that Severus, who had no idea of Harry's side errand, followed him with some alarm. By the time he caught up, Harry was already in conversation with the stall owner.

Severus rolled his eyes as Harry tried to convince the stall owner of the importance of having a piece produced prior to 1947. It was clear the stall owner really had no idea of his wares. A booth across the way caught Severus's attention. There were several tables with books outlaid neatly on them. From where he was standing, they looked quite old. He nudged Harry and indicated the other stall with his head before walking over. He had been perusing different titles for several minutes when he felt Harry's presence beside him.

"Dick, wouldn't know a Wedgwood if it bit him on the arse," Harry commented.

Severus snorted. "And you do?" he asked sardonically.

Harry grinned. "I do now," he retorted. "What are you looking for?"

"I thought I might find something here for Hermione's Christmas present," Severus said.

"A book? You're getting her a book?" Harry asked dubiously.

"You do know my wife, don't you? Avowed bibliophile, personal library to rival that of Hogwarts itself?" Severus asked in return.

"Everyone buys her books," Harry pointed out. "You're her husband; you need to stand out amongst the rest."

'_Stand out? How exactly do I do that?_' he thought. "So what do you suggest?"

Harry looked up and down the avenue of stalls. "Ooh, jewellery!" he said enthusiastically, heading straight for a booth that had stood out among the others.

Severus gave a resigned sigh before following – not before he handed over twenty five pounds for the books he had chosen though. He would just give them to Hermione this evening instead. Harry already had several pairs of earrings and some bracelets in a small pile in front of him. Severus raised an eyebrow. "All this?" he asked.

"Well, these are just some that I think she'd like," Harry replied with a shrug.

"Don't you think jewellery is a tad predictable as a gift as well?" Severus asked.

"She's a girl – they all melt at the sight of jewellery," Harry replied confidently.

"This from the gay man," Severus pointed out.

"The couple of girlfriends I had before I realised my true leanings, melted at the sight of jewellery," Harry stated.

Severus perused the items Harry had selected. "No, I don't like any of these," he stated, and walked away. He headed up the avenue to another jewellery stall. When Harry approached a few moments later, Severus tossed a set of cufflinks to him. "I believe these will suit Lucius if you are so inclined," he said.

Harry examined the accessory closely, smiling at the detailed engraving of a peacock on each of the square silver studs. He handed them to the stall owner to be packaged while he pulled out his wallet. A pair of diamond earrings caught his eye at the top of the display. He reached up for them and handed them to Severus. A non-committal grunt seemed to indicate he found them satisfactory.

"Look, there's even a matching necklace," Harry said excitedly, pointing off to a side table. Severus moved to examine the necklace. A flash of pink caught his eye from the next stall. He looked up to see an entire table filled with antique toys – block sets, trains, stuffed bears, dogs and cats, an ornate rocking horse, and right in the centre, in pride of place, a very familiar-looking, Victorian-era doll! Almost in a trance, Severus placed the necklace back on the table and walked straight toward the doll. The closer he got, the more convinced he became that this was Hermione's doll!

He came to stand directly in front of it, peering at it closely and trying to dredge the memory of the photographs up from his mind. The dark blonde, almost light golden brown curls cascaded over the shoulders of the doll, a lace cap, trimmed with pearls adorning her head. The doll was dressed in the same dress as the photograph – a pink frothy concoction, trimmed with lace, frills and fripperies that Severus could not begin to identify. This was definitely it. For the first time, he thanked the Gods that his Muggle-born wife had insisted he be equipped with a credit card at all times '_for an emergency'_. This definitely counted.

"It is a beautiful specimen of a Victorian Doll, Sir, rare to see one in such perfect condition. Are you a collector?" the stall owner asked hopefully.

"No," Severus replied with a curl of his lip. "I believe, however, that my wife may be interested in this particular doll. How much is it?"

"This one comes with its original box and a full wardrobe. It dates from 1832 and as you can see, is in pristine condition. The asking price is three thousand pounds."

If there was one thing Severus knew from being dragged around these fairs when Lucius was in an antique buying mood, it was that the asking price was merely a starting point for negotiations. "Two thousand, one hundred," Severus countered. '_One hundred pounds is a fair inflation amount for sixteen years_,' he thought.

"Sir, that does not even cover what I paid for it," the stall owner said patronisingly. "Two thousand, eight hundred."

"Severus, what are you doing?" Harry had appeared, after completely embarrassing himself back at the jewellery stall talking to thin air.

"I'm buying this doll for Hermione. Two thousand, five hundred."

Harry grabbed Severus's arm and dragged him away. "Two thousand five hundred pounds for a _doll_?" he asked incredulously. "Severus, Hermione would kill you if you spent that much money! Surely that would put a large dent in your renovation fund," Harry tried to reason with him.

"When Hermione sees that doll, she won't care," Severus asserted.

"It's a doll! She's twenty five years old, what's she going to do with it?" Harry asked.

Severus was loathe to tell Harry the story behind the doll. He was sure if his parents-in-law were aware that he, himself, knew of the story, they would be ashamed. It was certainly no business of Harry's that the Grangers had once faced destitution, saved by the proceeds of the sale of this very doll. He compromised, "It is very similar to a doll she had as a child. I thought she might like it."

"I'm sure it wasn't a doll worth two and a half thousand pounds," Harry declared reasonably. '_No, only two thousand pounds_,' Severus thought. "Believe me, Severus; the jewellery will win you more points. If Hermione used to have a doll that looked like that, I'm sure you can pick up one similar in any toy shop."

"But-" Severus was cut off by Harry's raised hand.

"Severus, I'm telling you, the doll is a bad idea. You know she would go mad if she found out you spent that much," Harry stated logically. The impulsive, romantic side of Severus that had reared its head upon sight of the doll, was unceremoniously beaten and dragged away by the side of Severus that was still insecure and scared shitless that one day, Hermione would come to her senses and leave him for someone more suitable. If she were here, she herself would notice that side of him and slap it silly, but she was not. There was only the Boy-Who-Lived-to-Suddenly-be-Practical before him. With a nod and a sigh of resignation, Severus allowed himself to be led back to the jewellery stall and cajoled into purchasing two hundred pounds worth of diamond earrings and a matching pendant. The pendant actually would go well with a necklace he had purchased for her birthday. The pair spent another hour looking for Wedgwood plates, finally securing one of the correct vintage.

Harry thanked Severus for his time, even though the original point of the excursion had not borne fruit. Severus reminded Harry that he now owed him one for forcing him to attend such an insipid location, and the next time, he could trawl for dark artefacts himself and bring them to Severus for examination. Harry merely chuckled. He knew if he needed Severus to come to an antique fair again, the DADA Professor would – the risk of having the artefacts in circulation at all, let alone in the Muggle world, was too great to ignore. Harry silently resolved to make sure the crook they were after would definitely be at the location next time. He bade Severus farewell, and ducked behind a portable toilet to apparate back to the Ministry.

Severus was just about to do the same, except to apparate home, when he realised he was about sixty feet from the toy stall once more. The impulsive, romantic side of him fought to the surface, and convinced his feet to move to the stall again. The doll was still there. The stall owner looked up at him hopefully at his approach.

"I believe I had offered two thousand, five hundred pounds when we were interrupted," Severus said.

"Two thousand, seven hundred and fifty," the stall owner said firmly. "That's absolutely my best price, and will only cover the cost of hiring this spot for the day."

"Done," Severus said, reaching for his wallet and pulling out his credit card. He waited while the stall owner carefully retrieved the doll and secured it with the box of clothes. For added safety, the whole package was then wrapped in a strange sort of plastic, and finally with brown paper. While all this was going on, Severus was justifying the purchase in his mind. '_So we may have to wait before we furnish the new conservatory, we won't be there until the summer anyway. And Hermione's parents offered to loan us furniture if we need it. She will like the doll. And if I decide instead to leave it until she can present it to our daughter or granddaughter one day, then where's the harm? At least I will know where it is._'

.

Hermione entered the controlled chaos that was Weasley's Wizarding Wheezes just before lunch. She waved at Angelina Weasley and Lee Jordan behind the counter. Angelina called out to her that George was in the work room with Little Fred. Hermione blew her a kiss over the crowd and made her way directly out the back. She jumped when a small explosion went off just as she opened the door. The delighted squeal of three-year-old Freddie and accompanying laughter from his father were like music to her ears, even if the noise had been like a sledgehammer to her heart.

"Again, again," the little boy begged, a wide, ecstatic grin splitting his face.

"No, no more," George said firmly, giving his son a tight cuddle. "We've exploded it four times already, and look, Aunty Hermione's here to visit."

Freddie looked up with bright, happy eyes, "Aunty Ma-my-oh-nee," he said excitedly.

"Hello," she said brightly, holding her arms wide for the little dark-haired, brown-skinned boy to run into. She picked him up and settled him on her hip.

"Daddy and me go BOOM!" he told her, flinging his arms out to the sides. His bright blue Weasley eyes were shining from his happy face.

"I heard you. How did you go boom?" she asked.

"We put the powder in the box, then put the water on it and then BOOM!" he explained, in his childlike way, arms flinging out once more. Hermione certainly hoped it was more technical than that. Angelina came into the room at that juncture. The two women made small talk for a few minutes before George reminded Angelina that she had told Fleur she would meet her at twelve for lunch. Angelina gave George a quick kiss and bade Hermione farewell, taking Freddie with her so he could play with his cousins. She instructed George to try to behave, and if he couldn't behave, make money doing it.

They all laughed, even Freddie joined in although he did not know why, and mother and son left the two friends alone. George offered to share the giant lunch Molly had brought over that morning. Since all her children were now out of the nest, Molly often felt at a loose end. She had learned that the shop was always busy, and often the workers had to pop out for takeaway lunches, if they even had time for _that_. The mother in Molly could not abide that, and so she had started to bring a hamper of food every morning to the shop for everyone to pick at during the day. The workers were eternally grateful to have Molly's delicious food to snack on and if ten galleons mysteriously made its way to Molly and Arthur's vault each week to cover the cost of the food, who were they to admit to it? It was a damn sight cheaper than buying lunch in the expensive Diagon Alley eateries every day – healthier and tastier too.

"What brings you here?" George asked after swallowing a huge bite of a chicken and watercress sandwich.

"I have been shopping with Draco since nine," Hermione said morosely.

"Say no more," George replied sympathetically. "That is a lot of Malfoy in your system and you don't have the Potter constitution that somehow can process that much ferret in one sitting. Here, have a pumpkin juice and a biscuit and tell Uncle George all about it."

Hermione giggled at George's behaviour. It was a running joke that Harry must have some sort of internal fortitude that allowed him to live peacefully and happily with Draco, blissfully in love with a man the rest of them were certainly fond of, and would protect and defend as a member of their family, but could only stand being around in small doses. Ron also thought Hermione had a measure of the same fortitude, being married to Severus, but the rest of the family tolerated their former professor more than they could Draco. It was probably because Draco was more outspoken than Severus – it was easy for everyone else to get tired of him quickly, whereas with Severus, they could kind of just forget he was there while he silently observed the goings-on.

"Well, he instructed me in the proper presents to buy for Severus, my parents, Harry and him. Then he forced me to go clothes shopping for Harry. I think a few of my brain cells were liquefied. After I finish here, I will be stopping at Flourish and Blotts to see what I can get to restore them."

George laughed. "What did you buy for Severus? I imagine he would be a difficult one to buy for."

Hermione scrunched up her mouth. "I didn't get him what I wanted to get him. I had to buy gold, frankincense and myrrh because that is '_the proper gift for a wife to bestow upon her husband their first Christmas together_'," she recited primly.

"That's old, pure-blood tradition," George dismissed. "Ange bought me _See-It-All-Specs_ for our first Christmas."

"I remember," Hermione said sardonically. That had been the Christmas before she and Severus had gotten together, thankfully. She did not know what the private, conservative man would have done if he had been confronted by the spectacle-wearing redhead that Christmas who announced everyone as they arrived, complete with a description of the underwear they were wearing. Angelina had not realised he had brought the specs with him to The Burrow, thinking it was a great gift they could use in the privacy of their bedroom – not the parlour of his parents' crowded home.

"What did you want to buy him?" George asked.

Hermione recounted the story of Severus finding his old action figure toy in the box, and how she had thought it would make a nice gift for him to finally have the childhood toys he had always wanted. "But Draco said there was nowhere in the Wizarding World that would even have them," she lamented at the end of her tale. "C'est la vie," she said airily. "What were you and Freddie playing BOOM with anyway?" she asked before taking a bite of her sandwich. George had stood from his chair and was making his way to a huge stack of boxes piled against a wall.

"I bought all these last week, because there were some really old Zonko's products in them – from the fifties and sixties. I'm hoping I can recycle some of the ideas since we bought out Zonko's now. Freddie and I were playing with one of the Exploding Potions Sets." George was rummaging through the boxes as he explained. "An old witch died recently and her nieces were left with the task of packing up and disposing of her possessions. Apparently, the witch had a son who died in nineteen sixty-seven of dragon pox and she simply shut up his room, everything under stasis, and never went in there again.

"The lawyer who was helping organise everything thought I might be interested in some of the stuff that was in the boy's room, but since it had all been packed up, I had to buy all of it, and I thought I saw... AHA!" he yelled in triumph. He picked up one of the boxes and brought it over to Hermione, plunking it down in front of her. He gestured at it, prompting her to open it.

Nestled inside, was a complete set of Auror Action Adventure figures. There was even the accompanying accessories the Aurors had to 'hunt down' and confiscate in order to bring the villains to justice – dragon eggs, flying carpets, jinxed cutlery and hybrid animals to name a few. "I was going to put them aside and give them to Freddie to play with in a year or so, before he would want the current figures, but I think Severus might like them," George said with a smile.

Hermione looked at him in surprise. "Do you really think so? I was kind of convinced that Severus would really go for the traditional gift, and I can't return what I bought now," Hermione said.

"He probably would, but you never know, maybe he would like these anyway to give to your son one day," George suggested.

"Okay," Hermione agreed. That was the real reason she wanted to buy the set – so Severus would have something to pass onto their son one day, if they were fortunate enough to be blessed with one. "How much do you want for them?"

"Hermione," George said in a warning tone.

"George," Hermione matched it perfectly. "I am buying these for my husband, it won't seem like a gift from me if I don't pay a fair price for them."

George knew that tone. He knew that any argument he put forth would simply be a waste of breath. "I paid one hundred galleons for the ten boxes," he said.

"Right, so one box will be ten galleons," she replied, reaching for her purse.

"You're forgetting your discount, it will be eight galleons," George said pointedly.

"I thought the friend's discount was ten percent." Hermione had helped out in the shop after the war during her school breaks. It had proved to be a great distraction as well as a source of independence while she attained her NEWTs, and later her Arithmancy degree.

"The family discount is twenty percent, you know that." George's tone brooked no argument. Just as he was adept at reading her, so she was at reading him. She nodded and handed over the eight galleons. George sealed the box and placed the stasis charm back on it to prevent any dust or moisture affecting the contents. "Perhaps Malfoy is right, Severus is a very traditional wizard, and even though he is a half-blood, his tendencies do tend to run much more toward the pure-blood side of things. Give him the gold, frankincense and myrrh; you can give him these when your son is ready to play with them," George suggested.

Hermione sighed, but nodded. Severus probably would not appreciate the sentimentality behind such a gift as this. She took the box from her friend and gave him a friendly kiss on the cheek. "I will. Thank you for these anyway," she said, hoisting the box in her hands a little. George returned her kiss and watched as she disapparated from his presence.

.

Christmas morning rolled around quicker than Hermione and Severus could almost fathom. The week leading up to the day had been filled with renovation plans, finishing cleaning out the nooks and crannies of Spinner's End and meeting with family and friends to celebrate the season. They indulged in a bit of a lie-in, gifting each other passionate kisses and a rousing love-making session before they exchanged their bought presents.

Hermione presented her gift first. Severus unwrapped the bright paper to reveal a velvet covered box. He undid the clasp and lifted the lid. Presented in the satin lining were a gold nugget, easily an ounce and a half, and two vials containing what he instantly recognised as frankincense and myrrh. '_Odd_,' he thought. He knew these were a traditional wizarding gift – especially for such an auspicious occasion such as a first Christmas – but he had not expected Hermione to know of the custom. He noticed his wife biting her lip in nervousness and quickly assured her of his approval of the present. Hermione visibly relaxed. '_She probably read somewhere that these would be appropriate_,' he thought. '_And they are, just not what I was expecting_.' He could not say what he _was_ expecting – a book or magical artefact of some kind perhaps. He was still musing on it when he handed her his gift.

Hermione smiled at the neatly wrapped present. '_Silver paper with a green ribbon, how Slytherin_,' she thought with amusement. She pulled apart the bow before carefully unsealing the paper wrapped around the gift. She was also met with the sight of a velvet box, one considerably smaller than the one she had given him. She lifted the lid and was faced with a lovely pair of diamond earrings and a matching pendant. She smiled softly, a small part of her oddly dissatisfied with jewellery as a gift. They seemed, somehow, too... girly for her. Not that she would ever let him know that, of course! She reached into the box and extracted the pendant first; removing the necklace she had worn faithfully since her last birthday and attached the two together. She then put the earrings in her ears.

Severus smiled at the adornments. He felt a slight pang, knowing the reaction had he given her the doll would have been more dramatic. That insecure, scared side of him reared its head again, and reminded him that the jewels were much more appropriate. He gently kissed the lobe of her ear, right next to the gem she had placed there.

"Thank you," she said softly. "They are beautiful."

"You are welcome. Thank you for my gift as well, the plant extracts will come in handy for several potions and the gold will be a nice addition to the vault," he said.

"You're welcome, too," she replied. The pair rose from the bed to get ready for the day. They were first visiting Hermione's parents for morning church services and lunch, then heading to Grimmauld Place for afternoon drinks. They had been invited several places for the evening, but begged off all of them, preferring to spend the night alone.

Thus it was a near exhausted, but pleasantly happy pair that arrived through the floo at six o'clock that evening. They began emptying their pockets and returning the many gifts they had received back to their full size – books, clothes, bottles of wine and firewhiskey along with a designer handbag for Hermione and a leather wallet and small travel case for Severus, courtesy of Hermione's parents, were spread out on the sofa once they had finished. Severus drew his wand and sent the items to their proper places.

All in all, it had been a nice day. A nice wake-up, followed by nice gifts, nice company, nice food and drink and nice presents from their family and friends. '_A nice Christmas_,' Severus thought, '_and it was as boring as hell_.' He turned from the sofa to see his wife standing in front of the fire, a mischievous little grin playing about her lips. '_Maybe it's about to get better_,' he thought lasciviously. With a wave of her wand, Hermione set the radio in the corner to a station playing romantic ballads. Severus took a moment to admire the beauty of the scene – the Christmas tree in the corner letting off a soft glow, the fire in the hearth radiating warmth and light into the room. A room that once had been harsh and uninviting. Since Hermione had moved in, it had become one of warmth and grace.

Hermione held out her hand, drawing her husband toward her. Severus met her where she stood, kissing her sweetly and chastely. He smirked at the growl she let out. "Is something wrong, my Darling?" he asked, tracing a line of kisses along her jaw line to her ear.

"I have often fantasised about a night of lovemaking on the rug in front of the fire, the Christmas tree twinkling next to us and romantic music in the background," she replied.

The scene was certainly set. Without a word, Severus withdrew his wand and blocked the floo. It would not do to have any interruptions. The pair then lovingly began to undress each other, caressing and kissing the skin revealed until they were standing naked together, each admiring the body of the one they had fallen in love with. Severus lowered Hermione to the rug, raining open mouthed kisses to all the places on her body that he knew would elicit the most passionate responses. Hermione in turn was doing the same, kissing and caressing her husband's most sensitive pleasure spots.

Both were well-primed by the time Severus aligned himself with her body, and gently thrust in. Their love making was slow and adoring, the couple keeping eye contact at all times, the depth of their love shining back at them through the pools of their eyes. It did not take long for Severus to speed up his thrusts, the tell tale signs of their impending releases approaching. They both came with quiet gasps and moans, breathing marginally heavier than usual. Severus immediately rolled off her, cradling her to his side.

"Hmmm," Hermione sighed. "That was lovely, thank you." She knew Severus was not usually one to want sex outside the bedroom. In it, were all manner of kinky surprises from him, but his staid, private nature would not allow him to exhibit it anywhere else. Maybe the bathroom, but that was generally the limit of his adventurousness. That he consented to this small interlude with little convincing made her all gooey inside, even if it had been quite sedate. The pair lay together in silence for quite a while, the warmth from the fire keeping them comfortable. After several minutes, Hermione noticed that Severus was looking at the gift she had given him, still sitting on the side table nearest them where he had placed it earlier. Was it her imagination, or had a slight look of distaste entered his face? "Do you not like your gift?" she asked worriedly.

Severus startled slightly, unaware he was being observed. "It is fine, a very appropriate gift," he told her.

Hermione rolled onto her back, covering her face and making a frustrated sound at the same time. "But boring!" she stated forcefully. "And predictable, I told him you wouldn't like it but he insisted."

"Who insisted?" he asked.

"Draco. He said that you were traditional and would want a traditional gift. This is what I get for listening to blond princesses," she muttered. "I didn't want to buy you this," she confessed, waving her hand at the velvet box. She sat up and retrieved her wand from within the pile of her discarded clothes. "This is what I really wanted to get you." She waved the vine-wood and a moment later, a large box flew into the room. She handed it to the puzzled man, gesturing for him to open it.

Severus did so, the dim light registering the name on the top of one of the packages concealed inside. "Auror Action Adventures?" he asked in confusion.

"Look closer," Hermione instructed.

Severus pulled one of the packets from the box. Inside a clear fronted box was a duplicate of the only Auror Action Adventures figurine he had ever owned. He quickly pulled out a companion Auror, followed by the villain of the day, Evalac Sepp, an Estonian Dark Wizard who was a precursor for Voldemort. "These are the figurines from when I was a child!" Severus declared in wonder. "I always wanted..." he trailed off before clearing his throat. He looked up into the hopeful face of his wife. "They are splendid," he told her. Her face relaxed and a happy, contented and relieved expression came over her face.

"I knew it," she said. She watched in delight as Severus continued to pull various accompaniments from the box.

"Is this the entire collection?" he asked in some astonishment.

"I believe so," she replied.

"Wherever did you find them still in their boxes like this?" he asked. Hermione recounted the story she had heard from George. Severus nodded after hearing it. It was sad, but the joy he was inexplicably feeling, over receiving toys of all things, overshadowed the melancholy tale. He shook his head slightly as he began to place everything back into the box. '_Only Hermione would go to this much trouble_,' he thought. He looked up at her, her bright smile at being the one to make him happy bringing out all the beauty of her features. He still could not believe his luck in being the one wizard in the entire world who had captured the attention and ultimately the love of this witch. '_Her vast intelligence, her infinite patience, her endless capacity to care, her generosity of spirit..._' This thought caused him to pause. '_Her generosity_,' he thought again, immediately remembering the doll sitting upstairs in the spare room right now. He withdrew his own wand and Accio'd the package from where he had hidden it.

"I, also, wanted to give you something other than what I did," he confessed. The wrapped box flew into the room, coming to land gently in front of Hermione. "I, too, was convinced it was inappropriate, but I still could not resist buying it," he explained. He set the box of action figures beside him.

Hermione reflected his earlier puzzlement as she rose to her knees and pulled the box toward her. She unwrapped the brown paper, followed by the bubble wrap. Hermione gasped loudly when she read the manufacturer's stamp on the top of the familiar wooden box –_ Frederick William Punfield Dolls, est. 1822_. She looked to Severus in shock. "Is this...?" she asked, a bubble of excitement, apprehension, and ecstasy beginning to bubble in her stomach.

"Open it and see," Severus instructed softly.

Hermione's bottom lip was clamped firmly between her teeth, and wetness was already pooling in the corners of her eyes as she reverently lifted the lid of the wooden box, revealing the contents. It took a moment for her to register what was inside, but with a choked sob, she reached in and removed the main item. "It's _my doll!_" she declared, losing the battle with keeping her composure. She clasped the antique toy to her still-naked chest bending her head over it as she shook with emotion. Severus barely had time to move to comfort her when she looked back up, and in a fluid movement, placed the doll back in its case and _launched_ herself at her husband.

"You... wonderful... sweet... brilliant... amazing... fantastic...darling man," she praised, landing kisses wherever they fell between her words. "Thank you... thank you," she continued. Severus soon angled his head so he was able to capture her lips. She had landed on his person straddling his thighs. The kisses, the words and Hermione's continued writhing in his lap soon caused an inevitable reaction in him, and without even thinking about it, Hermione impaled herself on him, wanting to be closer to his man who had brought her such indescribable joy.

Whereas their encounter earlier had been soft touches, sweet words and slow movements, this encounter was the exact opposite. Hermione gyrated at every brutal thrust upward into her body, urging Severus to take her to greater heights. Severus held his wife's hips in an almost bruising grip, guiding her body to give both of them the maximum pleasure possible. Both were very vocal in their lust for one another, notching up the passion even higher between them. They exploded into violent orgasms simultaneously, panting heavily, and moaning, their sweat-soaked bodies pressing against each other. Hermione let out a breathless little laugh. "That was my fantasy," she told him.

"The doll and all?" he asked. Hermione gave him a long, languid kiss.

"The doll was my dream," she said when she broke away. "Who on earth convinced you the doll would be an inappropriate gift?" she asked.

"_Potter_," Severus almost spat the name. "He said you would not appreciate the doll and convinced me the jewellery was more suitable."

"Harry?" Hermione asked in a small voice. "He convinced you even after..." Hermione was devastated. She would never have thought the man she considered a brother would be so callous of her feelings.

"He does not know the story; I did not feel it was my place to tell him. I told him you had a similar doll as a child but he was concerned with the cost if it was only a replica," Severus hastened to explain. If Harry _did_ know the true story, Severus was sure he would have kicked in at least half the money for it. But then it would not have been from _him_.

Hermione relaxed, she should have known Harry would never deprive her of something like this if he knew the true sentiment behind it. She supposed it was similar to the way Draco had convinced her about the Auror toys. "I know I should care about the cost, given how hard we have been saving for these renovations, but I really don't give two hoots," Hermione said. "Right now, I am so happy to have my doll back, that I will gladly take Mum and Dad's old conservatory furniture and blissfully sit in it for years. Oh," Hermione's face suddenly lit up even further, "you are going to score _massive_ son-in-law points with Mum tomorrow when I show her this," she predicted.

Severus smirked. Karen Granger was a conservative, fastidious woman, not one for showing a lot of emotion. It would be interesting to see how she would react to the reacquisition of the antique doll. Severus reached up and fingered one of the earrings in Hermione's ear which he had given her earlier in the day. "So, we let two wizards who, although we hold them dear to our hearts, we would not normally take advice from, talk us out of giving each other a gift we knew would truly touch the other, in order to keep up with society's expectations of us. How did that happen?" he asked.

Hermione shook her head. "Let's get dressed and go and hex them," she suggested wickedly.

Severus shook his head. "You still associate with too many Gryffindors," he lamented. "While they deserve a good hexing, perhaps a more – _subtle_ – message instead..." He gently removed the earring he had been fingering from Hermione's ear.

.

Harry entered the dining room of his house the next morning. He greeted Draco with a kiss and sat down. The two men chatted about the previous day and the people they had seen while Kreacher served them breakfast. They were in the middle of their meal when an owl arrived bearing a package. Harry removed the burden from the owl and fed it a bacon rind before it took off again. "It's addressed to both of us," he said.

"A late Christmas present, perhaps?" Draco suggested.

Harry shrugged and scanned the package for Dark Magic as was his habit. It came up clean, and so he opened the parcel. Inside were two velvet covered boxes. They were both tied with ribbon and had name tags hanging off them. One box was labelled with his name, the other with Draco's. He handed the box over and they simultaneously undid the ribbons and lifted the lids. Harry's contained a pair of diamond earrings and a matching pendant, and Draco's a nugget of gold and vials containing frankincense and myrrh. The two men looked at each other in confusion, each recognising the contents as the gifts they had helped choose for Hermione and Severus.

Harry looked through the discarded packaging and noticed a folded up note. Draco leant across to read the letter with Harry, both men instantly recognising Hermione and Severus's combined handwriting:

**Dear Gits** / _Dunderheads_,

**While we thank you for the sentiment,** _kindly keep your noses out of our gift giving from now on. Both of you seem to suffer from a false sense of knowing what we want to receive better than the two of us,_ **who are actually married to one another.**

**So although we appreciate where you were both coming from,** _keep your gifts, we are more than happy with ours._

**Love /** _Indifference_,

**Hermione &** _Severus_ _**Snape**_.

.

_**The End**_.

.

_Merry Christmas, Worrywart, I truly hope you enjoyed your gift and that it lived up to your expectations. Season's Greetings to all who read this one-shot and all my best wishes go out to your for a safe and happy 2013._


End file.
